“You’ve never had a climax?” he asked.
“Nope. Not until a few minutes ago.”
He thought about that. “You said you came dangerously close to getting married.”
“I did. And when I called off the wedding, my ex-fiancé informed everyone it was because I was both frigid and inclined toward hysteria.”
“Damn. No wonder you aren’t interested in marriage.”
Maggie smiled a slow, seductive smile. “Luckily it turns out I’m good at the sinning thing.”
He wanted to ask more questions, but something told him this was not the time. He wrapped a palm around the back of her head.
“Yes, you are. You are very, very good at it,” he said. “I’m starting to think I might have a talent for it, too.”
“More than a talent. I do believe you’ve got a psychic gift for this kind of sinning.”
Chapter 28
I found some interesting background information about the legend of the Traveler,” Pru said. “Got paper and a pencil?”
There was the usual crackling on the line and Pru’s voice sounded somewhat tinny and far away, but otherwise the long-distance connection was good.
“Yes, I’m ready.” Maggie pushed the stack of coins to one side of the small shelf beneath the pay phone and made room for her notebook. “Talk fast. I’m calling from a gas station.”
Pru had left word at the hotel saying she had some “news from home.” She had left a number and instructions to call at twelve fifteen, when she would be on her lunch break and stationed at a pay phone.
Maggie could see Sam through the open door of the phone booth. He was leaning against the front fender of the Packard, fedora angled over his eyes, arms folded across his chest.
Every time she looked at him she thought about what had happened during the night and got a little thrill. She thought about it whenshe wasn’t looking at him, too, and got the same frisson of awareness. She had not, however, been able to tell if Sam was also thinking about last night. It was frustrating. Irritating.
At breakfast she had been optimistic that the passionate encounter had meant something to him. She was almost certain she had caught a glint of sensual heat in his eyes. But now she could no longer be sure. He was back in control mode. Ever the professional private detective.Just doing my job, ma’am.
“I can’t talk long,” Pru said. “I’m using the pay phone at the coffee shop across the street from the college. About the Traveler. There have been various versions of the legend circulating for centuries. The one thing the stories all have in common is the notion of an assassin who possesses the ability to travel on the astral plane. He murders people in their dreams.”
“I knew that much. Anything else?”
“Maybe. The Traveler manipulates the individual’s dreams, encouraging desperate or dangerous actions that result in deaths that look like accidents or natural causes.”
“Or an overdose?”
“Right,” Pru said. “The Traveler began as a human avenger who could be summoned by a dreamer for the purpose of securing justice when there was no other recourse. But somewhere along the line the assassin’s spirit became unmoored from its body. It’s been trapped on the astral plane ever since. The closest it can get to human form is when it’s summoned by a powerful lucid dreamer.”
The operator came on the line requesting more money.
“Hang on,” Maggie said. She shoved coins into the slot. “Okay, Pru. Keep talking.”
“I saved the most interesting bit for last,” Pru said. “I found a paper in theJournal of Psychic Dream Discoveriesthat discusses the legend. It was published in the quarterly issue that appeared a couple of monthsafter Virginia Jennaway’s death. The author claims to have investigated the rumors that a spirit named the Traveler was responsible for the murder of a young woman from Keeley Point who drowned.”
Maggie caught her breath. “Jennaway.”
“The woman was not named in the article, but given the date of the journal and the other details, yes, the victim must have been Jennaway. The author went to a great deal of effort to debunk the legend and the possibility that the spirit caused the woman’s death.”
“I get the feeling you’ve got a surprise ending to this story.”
“How’s this? The authority who adamantly denied the possibility of astral projection and the existence of the Traveler was none other than Dr. Emerson Oxlade.”
“Well, well, well,” Maggie said. “Small world.”
